


Buckling Under

by royal_chandler



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Imported, LiveJournal, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_chandler/pseuds/royal_chandler
Summary: Leonard H. McCoy lets go.





	Buckling Under

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [](http://seraphim-grace.livejournal.com/profile)[seraphim_grace ](http://seraphim-grace.livejournal.com/) for the insightful suggestions.

If there’s one thing that Leonard H. McCoy prides himself on, it’s his composure. His ability to exhibit persistence and strength during the most inconvenient and strenuous times. Growing up, he had learned not to let unwelcoming situations get the best of him. His father would give him homilies on endurance, the virtue of patience taught to him on his family’s porch in Georgia. He had learned not to let woes deflates his highs.

He’s a skilled doctor who can hold himself through surgeries that go on for hours and present theories that initially seemed impossible. He’s a father who lives lightyears away from his daughter but somehow manages to not let that undermine his belief that’s it the best for her. Leonard doesn’t let things get the best of him, works his damnedest for them not to.

And that was all going well until James Fucking T. Kirk catapulted into his life and things went to shit. The only one able to unravel his central circuits and create some sort of electrical storm within his tin heart.

The impulsive kid makes him lose all of his inhibitions and say fuck it all.

And tonight’s not any different as a naked Leonard writhes under Jim’s ministrations, moaning when the captain’s fingertips press in between his shoulder blades. “God, Jim.”

Jim’s breath is warm against the back of his neck. “So hot, Bones. Your back’s practically shuddering.”

He presses a kiss behind Leonard’s ear before pulling away.

Leonard hears a pop, looks over his shoulder at Jim accusatorily. “What happened to that massage you promised me?”

“It’s a different type of massage, Bones. Do you remember that excursion we went on about two weeks ago,” Jim asks, squeezes a green-colored bottle that leaks out a clear oil. Leonard’s continuing glare apparently passes for a ‘yes’. “Well remember when we went out to eat at that restaurant with the really bad soup that looked like piss and I told you that I had lost my wallet, went back to the shuttle to get it? I lied.”

“’m not surprised,” Leonard says with a slight shiver, feels cold without Jim in his immediate proximity. “Don’t see what that has to do with what’s going on right now.”

“I bought something,” Jim smiles widely.

“What?”

“Peppermint flavored lube.”

There’s no time to register this brand new information before Jim is near him again, handing him a body pillow that Leonard doesn’t recognize. He knows better than to ask about it though because he learned a while ago to stop questioning how Jim does what he does.

“Here,” Jim says softly, motioning for Leonard to rise from the bed. “Pull your knees up underneath you.”

Leonard settles over it, shifts his weight forward and lays his cheek against the cool fabric of the pillow as he sticks his ass into the air, tries not to feel like a fool for it.

Hands slicked with oil travel up his calves, kneading the muscles there before running up to his thighs. The lube tingles and teases and the night’s hardly begun but Leonard’s sure that he won’t be able to smell the scent of peppermint without thinking about this.

Suddenly, Jim’s hovering over him, his mouth against the shell of Leonard’s ear. He strokes from hairline to ear then jaw. “Been wanting to do this for the longest time.”

With no idea of what’s to come next, Leonard can't help the chill that courses through him once more. He trusts Jim completely, a fact in life that he hasn’t ever questioned in the past four years. However, he knows the kid’s imagination and if he’s honest, before placing a drunk kiss on Jim’s full lips four months ago, his sex life had never been this intense, riveting, yesgodpleasemorealways… _existent_.

As if he knows Leonard is doing an inner monologue, Jim journeys a heated hand down Leonard’s spine distractingly, igniting small fires on each bump of his vertebrae. With an undercurrent of reassurance, the pads of his fingers leave a trail of swift kisses in contrast to the soft, lingering ones that his lips punctuate on Leonard’s side, the small of his back.

Leonard bites his lip, chest tightening and creating a barricade around his ribs. “Fuck, Jim. Do something.”

He hates having to beg but he can’t fucking help it, his dignity dies with every second that passes by. Loses a part of himself and fuses with his best friend, becoming that clichéd one.

Jim answers with a lick just above his ass. Laughs and says, “All in good time, baby.”

The words don’t seem to get through because Leonard shoves back into Jim, needing that touch, yearning for that intoxication that pretty much exudes from Jim’s pores. It creeps against his own skin and seeps in like a virus, taking control of his homestead.

Slippery palms grip his ass, spread him wide and Leonard inhales sharply. The cold of the lubrication is unexpected, so incredibly intimate. “Jesus Christ.”

Even though Jim is behind him, Leonard can practically see his smirk.

Jim tongues the skin he finds and Leonard grunts-curses in appreciation. “I wish that you could see yourself, Bones, opening up for me like this,” Jim groans.

Leonard whimpers when Jim spits against him. “Damnit, Jim." He tries to find it in himself to protest. "I'm a doc—"

Jim uses a hand to skim alongside his hip and slaps him. “No. Tonight, you’re mine. Anything I damn well want you to be.”

His tone is filthy, possessive and sexy as hell. Leonard’s not quite sure that he’s ever been so turned on. A finger enters him without warning and he’s positive.

The is cold against the delicate skin of his entrance, chills like ice before it builds to sensual burn. Leonard hisses out, "Shit Jim, what the hell is this stuff? It's hot."

Jim licks a stripe on his right buttock, replying, "It gets better. Promise. I got the one for sensitive skin. I know how badly you get sunburn, can only imagine what the strong version of this would do to you."

"You're an asshole."

"Love you too."

And it does get better. He starts to get used to the sensations and control over his body is lost when Jim inserts another finger into him; he trembles—doesn’t know how to stop.

“I got you. I got you. Let me take care of you.” Jim caresses the inside of Leonard’s thigh, let’s his fingerprints hint at his balls. “Got you.”

Leonard curses a noose of profanities against the pillows that is interlaced with _Jim, want you, love you, need you_. 

The coarse language does its job because Jim twists his two fingers firmly before pushing in a third. He pushes in with purpose, curls his fingers dangerously. Leonard may be the physician but no one knows Leonard’s anatomy better than Jim. "Yes.”

He keeps them there for a few more moments before removing them and Leonard feels an aching emptiness with the loss.

Leonard hears a loud squirt and he wants to scream for Jim to hurry the hell up but he decides not to because when Jim stretches over him, he’s gentle. His dry lips whisper adoration into Leonard’s sweat-drenched skin, tattoos promises that can’t ever be removed. He pulls Leonard to him, so close that his chest disappears into Leonard’s back. Jim mouths Leonard’s neck and bites at the space that leads to his shoulder, scrapes his teeth against the broad flesh.

A deep breath expels from between Leonard’s lips when Jim finally enters him and when his ass is flush against Jim, he feels at home. Perfect.

He should be used to it by now. That completion but he’s not and he prays that he never will be. It’s not possible with this impossible man, an impossible man that he’s assuredly, hopelessly, insanely in love with. Many emotions run rampant throughout his veins and he’s on fire, burning in a sweet and satisfying hell.

Jim drags out slow but only to snap back in. The slap of skin echoes against the walls, raw and real.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“I’m trying,” Jim mutters from behind him, all around him. Omnipresent motherfucker.

Jim’s pace is painstakingly slow, though; so Leonard takes initiative, reaches back to make half-moons into the tops of the other man’s thighs and gather leverage. Jim’s hands are strong on his torso. Leonard encourages him to give more by lifting his hips and shoving against Jim.

Slow strokes crank into deeps grinds. Jim isn’t entirely obvious and he matches the pace and grips at Leonard’s bones, creating a speed that gratifies both of them. His thrusts go faster and become harder, slamming back into Leonard with an undying urgency, everything he is behind each and every single thrust, sure and precise.

Jim reaches in front of Leonard and strokes his dick in random patterns of down, twist, pull, up and tighter. Leonard feels himself getting close and shuts his eyes against the white that is starting to blind him.

“God, Bones…love this so much.”

“Jim, come on…"

Jim’s tangled embraces tightens. “ _You_. You. Come for me, baby. Want to hear you, Bones. Want to feel it around me. Feel you everywhere.”

Leonard wants to go over with Jim, like he does in everything else but he can’t. There’s a tightening and stirring in his balls that seemingly lights dynamite behind his eyelids. He goes stiff and just buckles. Let’s go of everything and shakes as his soul falls from his body, the scent of candy canes flooding his senses.

His misses the rest of Jim’s thrusts, that final jigsaw arch of his pelvis that fits so perfectly—like they were broken by life for the purpose of being put together in this very moment.

When he comes to, somehow Leonard is still able to function. He discovers what he misses most is that look on Jim’s face…that beautiful, gorgeous, amazing moment of what he has in this deep black. In result, he removes himself from the heavy body that had collapsed on top of his at some point during what will be known as oblivion and rolls to face his lover, smearing come between the two of them.

Leonard threads his fingers through Jim’s sweat-damped hair with fondness, presses an open-mouthed kiss to it and says in one pant of many. “We’ve got to do that again.”

Jim just murmurs something incoherent to his nipple.

Later when they’re wrapped in one another, Leonard thinks to ask, with what brain cells he has left. “What was up with the peppermint lube?”

Jim nudges a leg between his, “Experimenting, the holidays, you know.”

“Christmas is a month away,” Leonard reminds him, staring into eyes that are more like a blazed out gaze.

“Countdown, Bones. You know me." Jim smirks so hot that had it been there at the right time, it could have possibly saved the fucking Titanic. “Would I really buy only one flavor?”

Leonard’s laugh come from the depths and he’s kind of horrified. “Please tell me that it’s like an advent calendar or something. You don’t plan to use it all in—“

Jim pats his cleaned stomach reassuringly. “No way, old man.”

Maybe it’s the endorphins, maybe it’s the brilliant blue of Jim’s eyes but Leonard is a bit high with love so he traces a thumb across Jim’s brow, breath suddenly caught in the best thing he’s ever felt. Involuntarily, he swallows as his thumb travels down Jim’s jaw. “Good.”

**fin**


End file.
